


The Lonely Merman

by embeer2004



Series: The barber surgeon and the sea [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, merman au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 20:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Crach an Craite finds something unexpected in a net.





	The Lonely Merman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jackjackaj](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jackjackaj).



> This is set nearly one year after the events of The barber surgeon and the sea creature. So as for Witcher timeline, what timeline? This is an AU!

“Come now, you daft creature,” Crach cursed softly, “can’t you see I’m trying to help?” The Skelliger glared at the being before him, which was weakly struggling against the wire-infused netting twisted firmly around its form.  
  
It was some kind of sea creature, a nixa perhaps going by the wing-like appendages sprouting from its side. Whatever it was, it was definitely some kind of sea creature, and an albino one at that. The creature was deathly pale, not the green of merfolk or the reddish colouring of nixa and sirens; an aberration…  
  
Right now the creature was hissing at him, though the strange nixa was too weak to put any strength behind its threat. Golden, cat-like eyes were blinking sluggishly, watching him, and a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs was revealed when he took a step closer. The hissing picked up in intensity for only a second before the creature’s voice broke, dryly.  
  
“Got rid of the drowned ones harassing you.” Crach swept out his arm towards their corpses lying close by, immensely pleased with himself that he’d managed to take out four of them with barely a scratch on him. “Calm down you fussy pale nixa. If I’d wanted to kill you you’d be long dead by now.” He sheathed his sword and narrowed his eyes, trying to determine the best way to untangle the creature.  
  
From what he’d heard at the New Port inn, this creature was a usual sight up north near the Giants’ Toes. Skelligers and the odd foreigner travelling to and fro had started spreading tales of ‘The Lonely Merman’, curled up on one of the rocky toes and singing woeful songs; mesmerising passersby with its voice until dawn approached, when the creature would disappear. And then it would return just after dusk, day after day after day.  
  
Then just a few days ago, Vigi the Loon had travelled up north with a Hornwall horn, hid somewhere between the trees at the shoreline near the Giants’ Toes and had waited… coming back the next day, triumphantly reporting that he’d blown the horn just as the ‘male siren’ had finished climbing the rock it had intended to sing from. It wouldn’t be able to lure weary travellers into the water anymore, drowning and eating them; the Loon had gleefully reported how the creature had lost its grip on the rock and bashed its head against its would-be perch before sliding into the water, disappearing from sight, surely succumbed to its injury.  
  
The ‘ugly’ siren would never be able to lure anyone into the water again, and Vigi had declared himself the saviour of Ard Skellig.  
  
Bulls’ balls that… The creature had been hanging around their isle for nearly a year and no one had reported any aggressive behaviour or missing persons around that area. Compared to the rest of Ard Skellig, the Giants’ Toes actually seemed to have become one of the calmer areas, with an unusual lack of other monsters, except for a drowner here or there that tended to appear only when there had been a shipwreck recently. And they too disappeared after a while…  
  
Bull’s balls…  
  
Vigi the Loon was just that: a loon. Oh sure, the young boy had good intentions, but he resembled one of those frilly shiny knights on the mainland, swinging at windmills and not seeing the cyclops right in front of him. Idiotic… and dangerous. Crach would not sail with him on any raid if he could help it…  
  
The Lonely Merman hadn’t been spotted ever since.  
  
On the third day after the Loon’s return, murmurings started in the inn as folk started wondering what had happened to the creature and if it would return. The Lonely Merman had become a mascot of sorts to the people of Ard Skellig, making the hearts of anyone that heard it weep louder than his friend Draig Bon-Dhu and even the great Xirdneh of Zangvebar could ever hope to achieve.  
  
Harrumphing, Crach looked at the perhaps-a-merman, more-likely-a-nixa before him. He was all for Skelligers protecting themselves from sirens and taking out the vicious creatures, but from what folk had been saying this lonely singer was harmless; only responsible for some lost hours, not lost lives, and there was a code of honour that must be lived up to, here on the Skellige Isles. Fight and hunt with an axe or spear and never, _ever_ , take the cowardly way of setting traps. Fishing nets though… now those didn’t count as traps, but still, these nets had caught something they shouldn’t have and now Ard Skellig’s Lonely Merman had paid the price.  
  
Crouching down, Crach cocked his head at the creature, his own eyes roving over the long white tail. The appendage was bloody in places and looked extremely dried out, indicating the nixa had spent many hours on dry land already. He wondered how long it had been suffocating, a terrible way to go for all he could imagine…  
  
He needed to push the nixa back into the sea, where it could recover. He needed to remove the netting first though, and for that…  
  
A low whining squeak rose from the nixa as the creature stilled and lay down, closing its eyes; its scarred chest heaved up and down, jerkily.  
  
Before he knew he’d moved, Crach had closed the distance between himself and the nixa and crouched down, worried when the creature didn’t react at all.  
  
Reaching for the blade on his belt he quickly found the top of the netting and started cutting through the mesh, encountering only a slight resistance from the interwoven wire; after all, a true weapon was no match for a fishing net.  
  
Within only a few moments Crach was able to push the netting to the side.  
  
The nixa’s tail twitched, once, and tired golden eyes were focused on him.  
  
Crach refused to give in to the wiggling worm trying to settle in his belly. He was a warrior of the an Craite clan. He was no coward. “Stay still,” he said quietly, tucking his blade back where it belonged and ducking his head so he could look better into the nixa’s eyes. “Let’s return you to the sea. Now stay still, be a good nixa…”  
  
The creature’s eyes narrowed and watched him like a hawk as he approached, but it didn’t make any move to attack. Crach was pretty sure by now the nixa was too exhausted, after hours… days?… of what must have been a futile struggle.  
  
“There we go now,” Crach spoke encouragingly, willing the nixa to understand his intentions. Slowly, he managed to scoop the nixa up and into his arms, as well as he could with the enormous tail draping to the ground, and walked over to the sea.  
  
He clenched his teeth at feeling the winter-cold water, but kept on walking until the sea came up to his waist. The nixa in his arms twitched weakly, the white tail swishing listlessly through the water.  
  
Crach wondered whether he was doing the right thing. The creature had been near death, perhaps he should go back to Kaer Trolde and call for a healer, or better perhaps, fetch a druid at Gedyneith. He could cordon off an area in the sea to keep the nixa from floating out to sea, but keep it wet while he went for aid.  
  
Before he could ponder on what to do, the creature in his arms jerked madly and managed to free itself from his grip, disappearing below the water’s surface.  
  
Crach cursed inwardly, hoping that his gut feeling had been correct and he wouldn’t end up joining his forefathers here in this icy cold water.  
  
He released a relieved breath when a pale head popped up out of the water some distance away from him, the golden eyes confused as they stared at him for a long good moment. Then the nixa made a clicking noise, followed by a low singing pitch and its hand pressed lightly to its pale chest, just below the seashell necklace that it wore.  
  
Nodding his head, Crach touched his own chest. “You’re welcome. Take care of yourself now. Vigi’s an idiot, I’ll make sure to give him a knock on his head for this. Do what you want, but our people have grown fond of your singing. We don’t mind you here, perhaps…”  
  
Before he could finish his words the nixa swept its tail out of the water and crashed it back onto the surface, sending a huge splash of water at him.  
  
Crach closed his eyes against the water to avoid its salty sting, and by the time he opened them again he was alone. He stayed for a while longer, hoping to glimpse any sign of the nixa, but after a while the tingling of his limbs started to fade as his body grew accustomed to the freezing water, and it was a clear sign for him to get back to dry land as soon as possible.  
  
There was a low call, like a whale’s song, rising up from behind him just as he stepped back onto the rocky shore, and, turning, Crach was quick enough to catch a glimpse of a pale creature breaching the water.  
  
Good. It seemed like the nixa would be just fine.  
  
Inclining his head, Crach stared at the water for only a few moments longer before heading down the path leading towards Kaer Trolde. If the nixa returned, if their Lonely Merman returned to sing its woeful songs near the Giants’ Toes again, he’d be sure to hear it soon enough.  
  
**The end**


End file.
